


A Secret Shared

by evilwriter37



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Blindness, M/M, Scarring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-22 23:09:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21310159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evilwriter37/pseuds/evilwriter37
Summary: Thranduil reveals his scarred left side to Bard.
Relationships: Bard the Bowman/Thranduil
Comments: 6
Kudos: 188





	A Secret Shared

“You don’t react to anything I do on your left side,” Bard noted to Thranduil at dinner. The elf king had decided to stay in Dale to help Bard’s people rebuild. Bard didn’t exactly know why. Thranduil seemed like someone who only cared about their own self-interest. 

“No?” Thranduil questioned, not looking up from cutting his meat. The two were dining privately in his command tent, sitting across from each other, so Bard thought it a good time to bring it up. 

“No,” Bard answered. “And you always put me on your left. Is there a reason?”

Thranduil took a sip of his wine, wiped his mouth on his napkin. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Bard grit his teeth in frustration, but didn’t say anything else. If Thranduil wanted to keep a secret, who was Bard to try to get it out of him? Surely stronger people had tried and failed. So, he dropped it, and went back to eating his dinner. 

  


Bard tested out his theory that Thranduil was blind on his left side. His eye didn’t look it, still moved in time with the other one, still had all its color, but he didn’t react the same to things on his left side as he did the right. Bard all but waved his hand in front of the left side of his face and got no reaction. He even tried making silly faces at him from his left, though he knew it was hardly proper for someone who his people considered to be a leader. But, Thranduil didn’t notice. Not at all. He carried on like there was no problem though, as was typical of him. 

“Are you blind on your left side?” Bard finally asked one night. Thranduil had invited him to his palace in the Greenwood, and Bard had taken his children with him as well. He loved the way their faces lit up when they saw all the elves in their resplendence, and the way they jumped on the large beds in the guest room they had been given. Even Sigrid, the oldest, had jumped up and down on the soft mattress. 

It was after dinner when he asked, and the two were having a drink privately in one of Thranduil’s many chambers. Thranduil put down his goblet, apparently shocked by the question, though he only showed it with a blink of his eyes. 

  


“Am I blind on my left side?” Thranduil repeated. Bard had brought up his left side a couple of weeks ago, and Thranduil had hoped he had dropped his curiosity for good. He didn’t let many people know of the truth of that, and his glamour hid the damage.

“Yes,” Bard said, clearly wanting to press on. “I have done all manner of things on your left side and you have yet to notice.” There was a bit of an amused smirk on his face.

Thranduil shared in the smirk, sipped from his goblet. “All manner of things?”

“Well, yes, you missed the faces I was making at you.”

Thranduil laughed lightly. “Oh, I was just ignoring them so as not to embarrass you.” This was the first he knew of Bard making faces at him from his left, and of course it was. He truly couldn’t see on that side, but if he let people know that, it would be revealing weakness. “They were not very lordly expressions.”

Bard crossed his arms. “Fine. Show me one I made.”

“What?”

“Copy one of the expressions I made at you.”

“Well, that would hardly be befitting of me, now would it?”

“You can’t because you didn’t see it,” Bard said.

Thranduil looked at him aghast, mouth open a little. He was surprised he wasn’t infuriated with Bard. Most people knew not to push him this hard, and if one did, they faced his wrath. However, Bard didn’t seem to be doing this to exploit any of his weaknesses. He seemed truly curious.

But, Thranduil couldn’t possibly tell him.

So, putting his kingly mantle aside, he tried his best to make a funny face at Bard.

Bard leaned back in his chair, laughing, slapping his knee. “Not one of the ones I did, but very good nonetheless.”

Thranduil’s expression dropped. He’d hoped that would sway him. He frowned, and the humor drained from the room.

“Bard, if I show you something, you must promise to tell no one.” His tone had grown very serious.

Bard leaned forward, sobering up. He nodded very seriously. “I promise.”

Thranduil dropped his glamor, slowly, not wanting to startle Bard with the atrocity that was the left side of his face. It seemed to anyway. He gasped, drew back, eyes wide in shock.

“Thranduil-”

“Now you see, Bard. Your assumptions were correct.” He gestured to his blind, white eye. “I cannot see out of my left eye. Ugly, isn’t it?”

Bard shook his head, leaned over the table between them. His elbow rested on it, one hand coming up, and Thranduil could sense that it was near his scarring.

“None of you is ugly,” Bard breathed. “It is impossible.”

Thranduil gingerly touched underneath his scarring. It still hurt him from time-to-time. “Even with this?”

“No.” Bard reached his hand closer, out of Thranduil’s sight, but Thranduil didn’t move away from his hand. He realized, very suddenly, that he trusted Bard like he hadn’t anyone else in a very long time, not since his wife. He knew Bard wouldn’t expose his weakness, wouldn’t use it for his own gain. Bard wouldn’t do anything to hurt him, and so he let his hand touch his face. He had almost no nerves left on that side, but he could almost feel it, the touch careful, reverent. “What happened?”

“A dragon,” Thranduil answered. “To the north.”

“Smaug?” Bard questioned.

“No. The beast was nameless, speechless. He only spoke through his fire and claws. I lost many elves trying to defeat him.” Thranduil’s chest ached thinking of that fateful day, and the pain that had followed. Even with the magic of elven healing, he had spent weeks in bed, fighting fever and agony and infection. 

Bard drew his hand away, but Thranduil took it, not quite sure what he was doing. “I am sorry,” Bard said. 

“Do not be,” Thranduil told him, putting his glamor back into place. “It was a long time ago.”

He felt a weight had been lifted off his chest from showing Bard the truth. The man had been set on discovering it, and he had. And now, Thranduil knew he could trust him above all others. They would share in this secret together.


End file.
